


A Good Mate

by lordhellebore



Category: Earth's Children - Jean M. Auel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:06:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29944218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordhellebore/pseuds/lordhellebore
Summary: Ayla is a good, hard-working clan woman, and Zoug is proud of being her teacher with the sling, however untraditional it may be. If only he were younger, he would take her as his mate. Then again, maybe he's not too old after all. Ayla will make a good mate, he knows it. But will he?
Relationships: Ayla/Zoug (Earth's Children)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

Ayla’s pregnancy astounded the whole Clan. It seemed impossible that a woman with as powerful a totem as hers could conceive life. Speculation was rampant about the spirit of which man’s totem had succeeded in overpowering the Cave Lion, and every man in the Clan would have liked to claim the credit – and the boost to his prestige. Some felt it must have been a combination of several totemic essences, perhaps the entire male population, but most opinions fell into one of two camps, divided almost entirely along the lines of age.

Proximity to the woman was the determining factor, which was why most men believed the children of their mates were the result of their own totem’s spirit. A woman inevitably spent more time with the man whose hearth she shared; the opportunity for swallowing his totem’s spirit was greater. Even though a man’s totem might call upon the assistance of another man’s totem during the ensuing battle, or any spirit that happened to be nearby, the vital force of the first totem had primary claim. A helping spirit might be honoured with the privilege of beginning a new life, but it was at the discretion of the totem that asked for help. The two men who had been closest to Ayla since she had become a woman were Mog-ur and Broud.

“I say it’s Mog-ur,” Zoug asserted. “He’s the only one with a totem stronger than the Cave Lion. And whose hearth does she share?”

“Ursus never allows a woman to swallow his essence,” Crug countered. “The Cave Bear chooses those he will protect, as he did Mog-ur. Do you think a Roe Deer defeated a Cave Lion?”

“With the Cave Bear’s help. Mog-ur has two totems. The Roe Deer wouldn’t have to go far for help. No one says the Cave Bear left his spirit, I’m only saying he helped,” Zoug contended hotly.

“Then why didn’t she get pregnant last winter? She lived at his hearth then. It was only after Broud developed his attraction for her, though don’t ask me what he ever saw in her. It was after he spent so much time near her that the new life started. A Woolly Rhinoceros is powerful, too. With help, it could have overcome the Cave Lion,” Crug argued.

“I think it was everyone’s totem,” Dorv put in. “The question is, who wants to mate her? Everyone wants the credit, but who wants the woman? Brun asked if any man was willing. If she’s not mated, the child will be unlucky. I’m too old, though I can’t say I’m sorry.”

“Well, I’d take her if I still had a hearth of my own,” Zoug gestured. “She’s ugly, but she’s hardworking and respectful. She knows how to take care of a man. That’s more important than good looks in the long run.”

Zoug was astounded by his own words as soon as they had been signed. Would he really be willing to take this ugly, wilful woman to his hearth as a mate? It was true that she was hardworking, and she had always been respectful to him, but he also couldn’t deny the fact that she had disobeyed Clan tradition by learning how to hunt and by provoking a man often in a most unclanlike manner. Would he be willing to put up with that kind of behaviour if it ever happened again? It was one thing to tolerate or even approve of something when it was just any woman doing it, but it was something else when it was a man’s own mate.

But then, why would anything like Ayla being so insolent to Broud ever occur again? No other man delighted in tormenting her, and she had never tried to provoke any other than him – certainly not Zoug. She was a good Clan woman. And hadn’t he spoken in favour of her hunting, was he not even proud of her skill and the fact that she had learnt it from him?

A strange image formed before Zoug’s inner eye: he and Ayla, walking through the sun-dappled woods together, discussing the best way to hunt with the sling, stalking small animals . . .

But what was he thinking? Resolutely, Zoug shoved the image out of his mind. He was too old for a mate, he couldn’t go on hunts with the men anymore and provide. It was pure fantasy, and he should know better than to –

“Zoug?”

He focused to find the other men staring at him.

“What is going on?” Droog asked. “You looked far off, almost like Mog-ur when he meditates.”

“I was . . . distracted,” Zoug motioned, wondering what they might think if they knew what exactly he had been imagining.

“We were discussing that if you really wanted Ayla, there could be a way, although I really don’t know why you would,” Dorv informed him.

Zoug withstood the temptation to tell him that if he thought repeating how much he didn’t want Ayla would make him look manlier, he was mistaken. It would not do to insult another man, over a woman no less. “What do you mean?” he asked instead. “A woman and her child need a hunter who can go out with the men, and that time has been over for me for a while.”

Crug shook his head. “We all know how proficient she is with the sling – although I can’t say I’m fond of the idea – and you are still the best man with it in all the Clans. I’ll have to admit that you both contribute a fair share of meat, and you have sometimes brought home animals as big as small deer. Who is to say you couldn’t provide for a hearth – together?”

His frown made it clear that he found the idea absurd to let a woman help provide for him, and Zoug wondered how he had even come to think of it. Crug was a very traditionally-minded man. But then, Ayla’s presence had forced them all to think outside traditions in some ways, and after he had seen her come home with many a kill that those at Mog-ur’s hearth had consumed without issue, maybe Crug was now catching on, even if he did not exactly approve.

Was it possible? Could two sling-hunters provide for themselves and a child? What about the long winters, for which they stockpiled all the meat the hunters could find on their hunting trips in the moons before it?

“What if it’s not enough, especially in winter? I wouldn’t want for my hearth to depend on everyone’s charity.” It was something entirely different from living at the hearth of his mate’s son in his old age, as he had done since they had found the new cave.

Nobody answered for a while, then Mog-ur spoke up. “You were second-in command to the leader before Brun. As such, just as a retired leader, you are entitled to a portion of each kill now, though most retired seconds do not use that privilege and instead live at the hearths of their mate’s children. Between that and the kills the two of you make, I don’t think you would ever have to go hungry.”

“That sounds like an acceptable solution to me,” Brun motioned.

Zoug hesitated, but it was Clan tradition, and as such, it was his right, just as Mog-ur received a portion of all kills, or as Brun would once he gave over leadership to Broud one day. There was no difference. And the thought of having his own hearth again was tempting – and again, there was the unbidden image of himself and Ayla, walking through the woods together.

“What about her child? If it’s a son, there is a good chance I won’t be well enough anymore to teach him hunting with the spear.”

“If it is a boy, I will teach him myself,” Brun replied. “I allowed for Ayla to be accepted into the Clan, so I feel responsible for her and the child.”

The answer satisfied Zoug; Brun was still a powerful hunter and a good teacher. Still, he was not quite certain.

“I will have to think about it.”

.-.-.-.-.

Over the next days, Zoug kept watching Ayla as she went about her daily tasks. He noticed that despite her severe morning sickness, she did not shirk her work. In contrast to the time before her pregnancy, when Broud had kept relieving his needs with her, she was taking care of her appearance again and walking with a spring in her step unlike any other Clan woman.

“A hunter’s gait,” he thought, strangely pleased with his observation. Why would it matter to him, he wondered.

Despite that manly attribute, she did all things required of a good Clan woman – she cooked, she weaved baskets, cured furs, helped with her younger sister, and was always quick and willing if a man had a task for her. She would be a dutiful mate and mother, Zoug was certain.

A few days after the discussion about Ayla’s potential future mate, Mog-ur invited him to share an evening meal, and Zoug could not help but once again notice how harmonious life at this hearth was, and how Ayla, along with Iza, anticipated their needs quickly and unobtrusively.

It was after the meal, when Iza had made tea and Ayla was taking a cup over to Zoug that her attention slipped for just a moment and she stumbled, the tea spilling over to the floor at Zoug’s feet. He would have had every right to scold her, and she knew it; her strange blue eyes were wide with surprise – and was it fear? Right then, Zoug decided that he had no business reprimanding her for an innocent mistake. Instead, he turned to Mog-ur, ignoring her.

“Your women are excellent cooks,” he motioned. “The mate of the son of my mate cooks well too, but it’s nice to have some variety and taste something different once in a while.”

Mog-ur grunted, pleased with the compliment, and it didn’t take long at all before the spilt tea was cleaned up and Ayla was kneeling in front of Zoug with a full cup. Accidents could happen to anyone every once in a while, and she would be an asset to any hearth, he thought that evening when he lay down in his furs.

Two days later, in the afternoon, he was sitting under a pine tree that grew close to the cave, as he often did these days, observing her while she cured the pelts of two wolverines she had killed the previous morning. When she was done, instead of bringing it inside the cave, she took them and quickly came over to him, dropping to kneel at his feet. Zoug was surprised – she had seemed completely engrossed in her work, yet she must have noticed him watching.

“But then,” the thought came to him, “doesn’t a hunter have to be always on his – or her – guard and pay close attention to the surroundings?”

What could she want? Zoug didn’t make her wait, but quickly tapped her shoulder.

“Would the hunter like to have the pelts? It’s only because of his teachings that I was able to make the kills. They would make for good foot coverings this winter.”

For a few moments, Zoug bristled. A woman did not gift a man with furs to use for clothing – it was done the other way around! The man was the provider! The offer was insolent, and to accept it would be emasculating.

Ayla cringed at his feet; it was clear she must have noticed his anger. The sight was unwelcome – it reminded him of how she had reacted to Broud, and he didn’t want to have anything in common with the undisciplined man. Moreover, he was certain that she hadn’t meant any harm.

“This woman regrets if she has offended the hunter,” she said with meek gestures, as if to confirm his thoughts. “This woman wanted to express gratitude for teaching her and . . . and for overlooking her mistake last night.”

“Ayla.” Zoug sighed. His anger had dissipated as quickly as it had come, which was good, since it had been unreasonable and unwarranted. “I’m not angry anymore. I was surprised. It’s . . . unusual to be given furs by a woman.”

Unusual, yes, but there was nothing exactly wrong with her wish to gift him the pelts. Had he not eaten the rabbits she had killed as he had visited Mog-ur’s hearth? He had found no fault with the fact that it had been Ayla who had provided the meal. And nowhere in the ceremony that had made her the Woman Who Hunts had it been said that the meat and hides of her kills were acceptable to use only for women.

Zoug picked up one of the furs and ran his fingers through it; as he had expected, it was excellently cured and pleasant to the touch.

“I would be proud to wear foot-coverings made from pelts that were obtained by such a good student.”

Ayla brightened immediately, the strange grimace that accompanied her happiness lighting up her entire face. Zoug found that he didn’t really mind it, even if it still made him uncomfortable.

“Would the hunter like for me to make the foot coverings?” she asked eagerly.

Zoug nodded, then handed her the pelt and waved her away, watching as she rushed back into the cave. What, he mused, if he were to receive foot coverings not from a grateful student, but from his future mate? It was a pleasant thought, as pleasant as the meal at Mog-ur’s hearth had been - and the idea of having Ayla around him every day at his own hearth.

Yes, Zoug decided then and there, he would take Ayla as his mate. Tonight, after the evening meal, he would go and speak with Brun.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, Ayla went out to gather for Iza in the afternoon; her stock of various herbs as well as willow bark had almost run out, and despite her lingering nausea, Ayla cherished the time spent alone in the woods whenever she could get it. She spent a pleasant afternoon strolling between trees and through meadows and managed to kill a ptarmigan on top of her gathering.

“Ayla,” Creb called her after had returned and she and Iza had properly stored the gathered bounty at the hearth. “Sit down with me and Iza, we have to talk to you.”

His motions and face were serious, almost severe, and Ayla obeyed with some trepidation. Had she done something wrong? She wasn’t aware of anything that might have displeased him, or anyone else - except maybe for Broud. But then, Broud was always displeased with her for no good reason.

“There is something important that we need to tell you,” Creb came directly to the point. “Brun informed me while you were out. You know that a child will be unlucky if their mother is unmated. We hadn’t believed that you would find a mate easily, not with you being Others and looking so different. But now a man in this Clan has asked for you, and Brun has decided that you are going to be mated the day after tomorrow.”

Mated? And so soon? Ayla’s head was swirling. _Broud_ , was her first thought, _it must be Broud_. She was sure of it. His interest in her - and in hurting her - had returned, and now he had managed to convince Brun to give her to him as a second woman to exact his revenge. She’d have to live at his hearth, obey his every whim even more than before, bear his beatings in silence, and only Ursus knew what he would do to her child. He would make his - or her - life miserable, because he would certainly hate any child of hers as he hated Ayla, and he would beat the child as well, she just knew it!

Stricken, Ayla looked back and forth between Iza’s and Creb’s serious faces, wanting to protest, wanting to ask them how they could let something like this happen, why they hadn’t spoken for her - but her hands wouldn’t move. And it wasn’t as if either of them could disobey the leader. If Brun had decided it, it would be done.

Creb was saying more, but she could not make it out as her sight was blurred when her eyes began watering. She didn’t want to be Broud’s mate, and she wouldn’t let him hurt her child! But what could she do? She had no choice, no matter how much she hated it.

_I could run away_ , she thought wildly for a moment, but where would she go? Alone and pregnant, she could never survive. Then Iza’s arms were around her, and Ayla gave in to her despair, sobbing on Iza’s shoulder as her mother rocked her as if she were still a little girl.

“Now, Ayla,” Creb said when Ayla had calmed down and Iza had dabbed at her eyes with a cool, damp rag, “you know a woman with a child needs a mate. You knew it was possible that one day, you might be mated - even outside of our Clan. You can count yourself lucky that it’s a man from Brun’s Clan who wants you.”

Ayla nodded dejectedly. She was glad she wouldn’t have to leave and live with some other Clan and be the mate of a man she didn’t even know, without Creb and Iza being there, without any familiar faces. Most likely, that Clan wouldn’t even let her hunt, and would find her strange and unclanlike, however much she tried to be a good Clan woman.

“I’m just so scared of being Broud’s mate,” she admitted. “He likes hurting me, and what if he hurts my child?”

“Broud?” Creb asked. “You’re not going to be Broud’s - didn’t you see me tell you - ” He shook his head, sighing. “Ayla. You’re going to be Zoug’s mate. He asked Brun for you.”

“He’s going to be a good mate, you’ll see,” Iza added.

_Zoug_?

Now Ayla was completely confused. Wasn’t Zoug too old? She had only ever known him to live at the hearth of Grod, the son of his mate. But then, anybody was better than Broud, and Zoug had always been kind to her, more than any man except maybe Creb and Brun. He’d even shown pride in her ability with the sling, when all the other men found her desire to hunt unnatural. And had he not accepted her gift and praised her skills just the previous day?

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, though she couldn’t blink back the water once again forming in her eyes. But this time, she felt relieved more than anything. She would have preferred not to be mated at all yet, but being Zoug’s mate might not be so bad. Broud would have run her ragged on top of beating her, always assigning tasks so she would have barely time to go out and hunt, she was certain. He might even have forbidden it, as was his right as a mate. Zoug, though . . . Ayla hoped that he would be different.

“I . . . I’ll try to be a good mate for Zoug, too.”

“I know, Ayla.” Creb nodded, satisfied. “You’re a good Clan woman, and I know we will be proud of you.”

Ayla was touched by the open praise from Creb, although she wasn’t as confident as him. She tried not to think about it too much, though, and instead concentrated on the time that was left to her at Creb’s hearth, wanting to spend as much time as possible with everyone. That evening and the following day, she cooked all meals together with Iza, served Creb as they were eating, played with Uba whenever her time would allow for it, and when they sat together after their last evening meal, she held her in her lap until the girl fell asleep.

All three of them delayed going to their furs that night, sitting around the fire instead, drinking tea in silence far longer than the people at the other hearths.

“We should sleep,” Creb announced at last. Ayla nodded, but hesitated to move.

“I will miss you,” she motioned softly, “both of you, and Uba too.” 

“We’ll still be right here,” Iza said, shifting a bit closer so she could wrap her arms around Ayla.

“Iza is right,” Creb agreed. “You may move out of our hearth . . .” he hesitated, but then went on, “but not out of our hearts. And we are still in the same cave.”

Ayla nodded. “I know.” 

Still, once again, her eyes began to water, though she stayed quiet, and after some moments, there was another warm body beside her, Creb’s hand coming to lie heavily on her back. They stayed like this for a while, until the fire died down to embers and Creb ordered them all to their furs.

.-.-.-.

The next morning dawned too fast for Ayla - she still couldn’t believe that today, she would be mated and her whole life would be changed. But there was no avoiding it, and when Brun called everyone outside, she slowly made her way out of the cave with Iza.

Hands were flying in surprise as soon as Brun announced that Ayla would be mated to Zoug; people had seen the new hearth that some of the women had built the last evening on Brun’s orders, but especially the women themselves hadn’t had any idea what it could mean. Everyone stopped speaking, however, when Mog-ur appeared at the entrance of the cave, clad in his bearskin, with Goov behind him, carrying the bowl with yellow ochre paste. Zoug took his place before them, and then all eyes turned towards Ayla.

Although she hadn’t been able to eat even one bite after getting up - and instead had thrown up repeatedly before they all had assembled - Ayla felt nauseated and had to take small, shallow breaths in order to not lose control of her stomach yet again. After a last encouraging squeeze of her arm from Iza, she followed Brun to the waiting men. If he had not been Mog-ur, Creb would have taken the role of her mother’s mate and led her towards them, but as it was, it was the leader himself who gave her away.

As they approached, Ayla kept her eyes lowered appropriately. She couldn’t have looked up even if she had wanted to. When she had arrived, she dropped to her knees in front of Zoug. Silently and without sneaking a glance at Creb calling the spirits or drawing the totem marks on Zoug, she waited for the mating to be complete.

“Spirit of Brown Bear, Totem of Zoug, your sign has overcome Spirit of Cave Lion, Totem of Ayla,” Creb proclaimed. “May Ursus allow that it will always be so. Zoug, do you accept this woman?”

Ayla had heard their names amid the silent ceremonial language, and quickly got up when she felt Zoug’s tap on her shoulder, following him inside the cave without daring to looking back.

.-.-.-.

Zoug watched his young mate as she gathered her things from Creb’s hearth and brought them over to his new one. Before everyone had gone outside, Uka had done the same for him already, and he had brought his weapons and started a fire from Grod’s hearth. He could see plainly that Ayla was scared, and he supposed he could understand it to some degree. When a woman left the hearth of her mother’s mate for her own mate’s hearth, she had to adjust to a new set of rules, she had to learn his ways. Of course she would be anxious, as she wouldn’t want to make mistakes and anger her mate. His first mate, Uva, had been nervous as well. She had adjusted quickly, though, and he hoped it would be the same with Ayla, although she seemed more afraid than he remembered Uva being.

When he had sat down by the fire and she had put down her furs and other belongings in a corner of the hearth, she hesitated, apparently unsure of what to do.

“Ayla,” he called.

Immediately, she came over to him and knelt before him, eyes prudently lowered to the floor. Was he imagining things or was she shaking ever so slightly? Zoug tapped her shoulder, and she looked up, obviously anxious to receive his orders, her eyes huge and glistening wet. What was he to do? Zoug wanted a respectful, obedient mate, but not one who cowered at the mere sight of him. He had never approved of the way men like Broud or Iza’s former mate handled their women.

Also, this fearfulness wasn’t like Ayla, or at least the Ayla he knew. It didn’t fit with a woman who bravely went out into the woods to hunt dangerous predators, and Zoug found that he didn’t particularly like it.

Slowly, he reached out and put his large hand on Ayla’s cheek, the same way he had always done with Uva when she had been frightened or nervous. It was a man’s task to reassure his woman, and it had never failed to calm her down.

Ayla winced as he made the contact, but when nothing else happened, he could see her relax bit by bit. Good. Absently, he noted that her skin was very soft to the touch. After a while, Zoug pulled back his hand, collecting his thoughts. 

“Now,” he finally said, “I know you must be wondering about what I expect of you as my mate.”

He paused, and Ayla nodded eagerly, clearly relieved to receive proper instructions.

“I know that you know a lot already about taking care of a man. Iza taught you well, as I could see whenever I visited Creb’s hearth. But I am not Creb, and I might want some things to be done differently. That is no reason for you to worry, though. I’m not going to get angry or cuff you for not knowing my ways yet. If you make a mistake, I’m going to tell you. If you’re not sure about something or have a question, you come to me and ask.”

Again, Ayla nodded; she seemed less tense, and Zoug was satisfied that he’d soothed her fears.

“Then go now and make some tea; mint is my favourite. Afterwards, you can put away your things and set up the hearth how you want it to be. I’m going to work on some new slings.”

“Yes, Zoug.”

.-.-.-.

That evening, Zoug went to his furs content. During morning, he’d worked on the leather for new slings while Ayla had set up her things and the hearth; she had ordered it similarly to the way Iza had done with Creb’s hearth, which was fine by Zoug. At noon, Ayla had a rabbit stew ready, made from the provisions that had been set aside for their isolation, and he found it to be tasty and well-seasoned. When they’d been done eating, he had gone on with his work, while Ayla had begun working on a bowl she was carving from a block of hard wood that she had brought from Creb’s hearth. In the evening, they had finished the rest of the stew before each had lain down in their furs, apart from each other as custom demanded.

It had been a quiet day, and the tension had never completely left Ayla, but Zoug found no reason to complain. She had been capable at everything she had done, and quick to obey his every command - although he hadn’t demanded much on this first day except for food and drink. Uka, too, had always obeyed his orders, but she was Grod’s mate and attuned to him and his wishes first, as it should be. Zoug found that he liked having his own mate again, who would put him first for a change. So what if she was ugly? It wasn’t what was important in a mate, and he could certainly get used to it, he thought as he slowly drifted off to sleep.


End file.
